


The Becoming and Undoing of the Marauders

by DraconianPixie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Marauders Friendship, Marauders' Era, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-16 06:26:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7256092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DraconianPixie/pseuds/DraconianPixie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus Lupin was almost not allowed to go to Hogwarts. Sirius Black was supposed to carry on tradition and be in Slytherin. James Potter is the darling child of two elderly parents. Peter Pettigrew is just happy to be here.</p>
<p>Follows the Marauders throughout their years at Hogwarts, beginning with Remus when he gets his letter and presumably ending with Sirius going to Azkaban.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Acceptance

For most of the month of July in his eleventh year Remus Lupin had sat on the porch waiting for the mail. It made his parents—his mother in particular—uneasy, but he could not help himself and sat there all the same.

The boy was scrawny to the point of gaunt, a fact that would not change as he grew older. Never had he given much thought or care to his clothes, usually wearing things that looked dingy or ratty. As a result Remus looked unkempt, as though he was coming undone at the edges, a look that had the benefit of warning all muggles to keep their distance. Since he was forbidden to play with any children his age anyway, due to his ‘affliction’ as his parents called it, he did not mind that they avoided him. In consequence he passed most of his free time with his nose in a book, as he did not have to worry about hurting the people in the story if he lost control of himself.

There was a well-loved copy of ‘The Tales of Beedle the Bard’ in his lap as he sat outside on that day in June, but it had largely been forgotten as Remus scanned the skies for a nocturnal messenger bird to signal what would hopefully be the beginning of his new life. His father had been careful not to say anything, not to give any hint that today might be the day that the letter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry arrived, but Remus had a really good feeling about that morning. It just seemed as though it was the right day to get his letter from Hogwarts.

His mother in particular would be unhappy to discover him out on the front porch waiting for the arrival of the owl. Hope Lupin was a kind and loving woman who made for a fantastic mother, but as a muggle she simply did not understand why her son and husband were so concerned about him getting into a _magical_ school. It was her belief that Remus could get an excellent education at a school for muggles and learn ‘the magical bit’ from his father and other tutors on holidays and weekends; plus there was the added benefit of being able to pull him out whenever things got a bit, ‘hairy’.

Because Remus John Lupin was not a normal boy even by wizarding standards there was a chance that Hogwarts would simply be unable to accommodate him and his special needs. Since before his fifth birthday Remus had been taken to various healers and specialists, people who might have been able to help his unfortunate condition; though no one ever could. It had gotten to the point that they were all sick of trying, broken more by the letdown of another false hope than they had ever been by the real problem.

Albus Dumbledore was different though. The Headmaster for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry did not promise to help Remus get better or to try and find a cure, but rather to find a way to accept the boy _as he was_ so that he could attend the school with his peers. Letters written in emerald ink had been fixtures in the owl post for nearly a year, but always they had born the names Lyall and Hope Lupin. Today, if Dumbledore had been able to accomplish what he set out to do, the letter would bear the name Remus Lupin.

Every time a bird flew by the eleven year old felt as though his heart might just thump out of his chest. Remus would watch the fowl’s random flight trying to discern a pattern, trying to make it into the owl that would contain his future.

There had already been several owls that day. The first arrived at the crack of dawn with a copy of the Daily Prophet, and Lyall had read it with such a keen disinterest that it bordered on disassociation before drinking the last of his tea giving his wife a kiss and going off to work. A few more letters had arrived, but nothing that held Remus’s interest once he was sure that it was not from Hogwarts.

A bird was headed straight for the house. Not just a bird, but a large tawny barn owl. It was too far away to know for certain, but Remus was _sure_ that he could make out the shape of a letter in one of its talons. Swooping down low but without bothering to stop the owl dropped its cargo and swung back to fly back the way it had come.

Remus looked at the letter in his hand. It was thick and written on the same yellowish parchment as all the others that his father had received. He flipped it over and there, on the front in a tidy little scrawl in emerald green ink was the address where the small Lupin family lived. Just above the address were two words with an initial in between; a name, a _single_ name. Remus J. Lupin.

“Mum!” he hollered into the house, jumping up from the porch and leaving the book where it fell on the ground. “Mum!” he called again as he barged through the door without closing it behind him and barreling into the kitchen. “Mum, mum!” he lifted the letter up for her to see, and Hope took a sharp intake of breath as she realized what the letter might contain.

“Maybe we should wait until your father gets home to open it,” Hope suggested.

“But it’s mine, it’s my letter,” Remus argued.

“Yes well, Dumbledore really ought to have written your father first,” she said softly as though she was afraid that she needed to take a preemptively consolatory tone with her son as she set the letter down on the counter. “That way we would know…” but Remus had snatched the letter back up before she could finish her sentence. “Remus John!” she scolded, putting her hands on her hips as the letter was torn open to no avail. Already her son’s eyes were scanning the first piece of paper, lighting up as he realized that he had gotten precisely what he had always wanted.

 

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

Order of Merlin First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confederation of Wizards

To: Mr. Remus Lupin

      31 Aberporth Road

      Cernes Abbas

      Dorset

 

Dear Mr. Lupin,

      We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

     Term begins September 1st. We await your owl no later than July 31st.

                                                                  Yours Sincerely,

                                                                        Minerva McGonagall

                                                                        Deputy Headmistress

 

“I’m going!” he told his mom, handing the first piece of the parchment over to her before he started on the next. “I’m actually going!”

“Well, what else is in there?” Hope questioned, maneuvering behind Remus so that she could read over his shoulder. The second letter bore the same letterhead as the first, but was clearly of a more personal nature as Remus’s name had not just been plugged into the blanks.

 

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

Order of Merlin First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confederation of Wizards

To: The Lupin Family

      31 Aberporth Road

      Cernes Abbas

      Dorset

 

Dear Lupins,

      The concerns you have regarding safety of both Remus and the other students during his stay here at Hogwarts are completely valid, and I assure you that I would never put anyone in unnecessary risk or danger.

      Just off of campus outside the village of Hogsmeade a small but secure safe-house has been built for Remus during times which he is experiencing his affliction. Once a month he may slip off campus and follow a discreet trail to this safe-house where he can wait out the night without fear of himself or others.

      To deter anyone from finding or following Remus, a Whomping Willow has been planted outside the entrance to the tunnel of the safe-house. Either I myself or Remus’s future head of house will personally escort him to the tunnel to ensure that he is not injured by the tree.

                                                                  Yours Sincerely,

                                                                        Albus Dumbledore

                                                                        Headmaster

 

“He certainly _seems_ to have thought of everything,” Hope allowed.

“I can go, right?” Remus inquired.

“We will have to talk to your father.”

 

  

 

It did not take long for Remus to realize that he really would not be able to convince his mother that he could go to Hogwarts without including his father in the discussion. Therefore he went back out to the porch where he grabbed the book that he had left behind before closing the door as he should have done the first time around. He then made his way upstairs to his room where he spent the rest of the afternoon. When he finished reading through the collection of fairy tales Remus decided to pick up his copy of _Quidditch through the Ages_ ; because even though he did not play Quidditch he would thought that he would probably have an easier time making friends at Hogwarts if he did not sound like an idiot when it came to discussing the sport.

Time seemed to be moving at an excruciatingly slow pace, Remus attempted to avoid looking at the clock because watching the steady march of minutes seemed to slow their progression even more. At one point he tried to guess how much time had passed based on how far he had gotten along in his book, but after the fourth or fifth time he found that he was several minutes ahead. Still, five thirty came and Lyall was still not home from the Ministry of Magic. These days it was not unusual for his father to be up to an hour late coming home from work, but it seemed to be a personal punishment to Remus that he could not make a prompt appearance at home tonight of all nights.

With a force of will the boy turned his attention back to his book and began to read again. It must have been the fourth time that he was reading a sentence about a match between Puddlemere United and the Ballycastle Bats, but it was still not making any sense to him. Midway through his head snapped up because he thought that he might have heard a crack—the noise that would indicate his father was home at last—but it was just his mother closing a cupboard down in the kitchen as she prepared dinner. Remus sighed and started the sentence for the fifth time when he _did_ hear the distinctive crack of someone apparating nearby.

Pausing only to retrieve the letter, Remus tore down the stairs and into the dining room where Lyall was helping his wife to set the table while listening to her explain about the letters. “His acceptance came this morning, there’s also a personal note from Dumbledore…”

“I’ve got them here,” Remus told his father, handing them over before Lyall could ask. “I can go, right?” he questioned before his father could even begin to read.

“Help your mother set the table while I look these over,” he instructed, his eyes already beginning to scan the one from McGonagall. Remus obeyed, but kept an eye on his father. He saw when he switched to Dumbledore’s letter; and watched as Lyall stared it over again as if to make sure that he did not miss anything in those three paragraphs.

“Remus, dear, you’ve given yourself two spoons and your father two forks,” his mother pointed out as she came out from the kitchen with three plates of food.

“I think we’re going to have to talk this over,” Lyall announced as he put the letters down on the table and sat down while his wife served.

“After dinner?” Hope asked, reaching for the letters to put them somewhere else in the meantime.

“No, I mean all three of us, and over dinner is as good a time as any,” Lyall responded. “I’m starving and I think that our son is anxious to know one way or the other.”

“Three of us?” Hope’s eyes were wide, and she looked to her son. “But Lyall, he’s just a boy…”

“It’s _his_ future we’re discussing, and I think he’s of an age and maturity where he ought to be part of the discussion,” Lyall replied, grabbing his wife’s hand and with a gentle firmness guided her to the seat she usually occupied at the table, pulling the chair out for her. Remus sat across the table from his mother, though he did not feel much like eating. “Son, you’ve been given a very difficult path to walk in life, and your mother and I have helped to guide you as much as we can; and we will continue to do so. But there are decisions going to be some very difficult decisions that you are going to have to make for yourself, and one of them is sitting before you now.” When Remus looked to his mother he saw that she was biting his lip and looking very concerned.

“You don’t think I should go to Hogwarts?” Remus asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I did not say that,” Lyall corrected, “ _no one_ said that. I am saying your mother and I are going to talk to you about it and tell you what we think; and we’re going to leave the ultimate decision up to you, but we want you to understand the full weight of your choice before you make it.”

“I want to go,” Remus said determinedly.

“I know you do sweetheart, but think about it,” Hope pleaded. “You are going to have to sneak off once a month for seven _years_ , someone is bound to notice—to realize—and then… it would be easier in the muggle world, we could continue moving you around.”

“I am _sick_ of moving around,” Remus answered, “of not having any friends.”

“You know it’s as much for the safety of others as it is for your own,” Lyall reprimanded, and while his tone was firm it was not harsh or cold. “And it is something else that you are going to have to think about. Dumbledore seems confident in the safe-house that he has built for you, and if he is that means it is a good one. But should anything go wrong, you are going to be the one that has to live with the consequences more than the rest of us.”

The boy sat in silence looking at his plate. “We can talk about it later,” Hope determined, grabbing her fork as doing so officially put the matter aside. “We should not have been discussing it over dinner anyway.”

“Going to Hogwarts is the only way I will be able to fit in in the Wizarding World,” Remus finally said, it was not a question.

“Probably,” Lyall affirmed without sugar coating it. “And I won’t lie to you, trying to make it in the Muggle world will likely be just as difficult. No matter what you decide to do, eventually you will have to get a job and be out in the world and be protecting others from yourself on your own.”

“At Hogwarts Dumbledore will know,” Remus realized.

“He won’t always be there though,” his mother cautioned.

“Even if he were, it would not be fair to put _all_ of the responsibility on him,” Lyall added.

“Lyall, Remus is too young to take it all for himself,” Hope admonished.

“But he’s too old to hand it completely over to someone else,” her husband replied. “He’s going to have to learn to accept it. Remus—it’s not fair, but there it is—this is your life and no matter how you’re going to live you’re going to have to accept responsibility for it. In making this choice, no matter what you decide, you’ll have started to do so.”

“But everyone at Hogwarts has magic, or will be learning it,” Remus continued. “They’ll know how to defend themselves if I…”

“You of all people should know that magic is not a cure for all of life’s problems,” Lyall reminded him. “No one can plan for every contingency, and the students—even most of the staff—will not know about your affliction and they will not know to be on their guard. It’s as much of a necessity as the safe-house, Remus, if you’re to go to school without stigma or persecution.”

“I know, but still, they’ll be better prepared than anyone in the Muggle world should things go wrong,” Remus replied.

“That’s true,” Lyall conceded.


	2. Tradition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius Black is introduced, and he is torn when it comes to which house he wants to be in at Hogwarts. Slytherin is a family tradition and it would please his mother; but then even at his very young age he is not sure that he wants to be exactly like the rest of his family. In the midst of his turmoil he ends up sharing a compartment with James Potter as well as Lily Evans, and meets Severus Snape for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **DISCLAIMER**  
> To ensure that my butt is totally covered in case anyone wants to try and accuse me of plagiarism, I have included this disclaimer as well as references at the end of the chapter.
> 
> The dialogue during the train compartment--specifically when all four characters are interacting with each other--will be familiar to readers as it first appeared in J.K. Rowling's "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows" in the chapter entitled "The Prince's Tale."  
> I am not now nor shall I ever claim credit for writing this dialogue. It is only what I perceive as Sirius's inner monologue and perspective that I wish to give light too; and it is that which is my original work.  
> In addition to a reference in text, I have also underlined that which belongs to J.K. Rowling just to make sure there can be no confusion.
> 
> Furthermore, the scene with Nearly Headless Nick at the Welcome Feast may also be familiar. I thought it might be fun if the same scene was played out basically every year for the first years. I also give credit where credit is due there, citing the film adaptation of "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone" with a similar method as above.

“Are you sure that you have everything?” an emotional woman asked a gaunt looking boy of eleven as she adjusted his shirt collar for him as she tried to keep the tears back. “You’ll write me if you forgot anything? You’ll write me?”

“What kind of mother lets a boy pack his own bag,” Walburga Black huffed loudly as she looked down her nose in disapproval at the set of parents bidding goodbye to their own son. An eleven year old Sirius Black kept his head down in shame, cheeks burning red. He would have loved to have a mother that would fuss over him, rather than one that degraded others saying goodbye to their children at King’s Cross Station. They got to the door of the train. “Right well, have fun in Slytherin,” his mother ordered, “but not too much fun, behave yourself.”

“Yes mother,” Sirius agreed meekly, his stomach in knots.

He knew that he was supposed to be in Slytherin, that it had been a Black tradition for generations; even his mother’s family, the Crabbe’s, had a strong tendency to end up in Slytherin. But all his life Sirius had felt that there was something _wrong_ about a lot of his family and he was not sure that he wanted to be anything like them. Saying so though would have gotten him in more trouble than it was worth. As far as Walburga was concerned his acceptance letter into Hogwarts went hand in hand with his acceptance into Slytherin.

It was a relief to step on the train and to get away from his mother, Sirius thought. He went into the first compartment that he found. “This seat available?” he asked a girl with dark red hair and brilliant green eyes. She looked at him, her a flash of light shone in her eyes—as though expecting him to be someone else—but they dimmed again as she nodded, when he sat down she turned her attention back to the window as the train gave a lurch forward signaling that they were off. Sirius wondered if he ought to say something to her, to engage her in conversation, but he did not really trust himself to speak.

“First years?” a boy—who must have been at least eleven because Hogwarts would not take them any younger, but could have passed for nine because of his small size—asked as he opened the door.

“Yes,” Sirius answered.

“Might not want to say that too loud mate,” the newcomer cautioned, coming in and closing the door. “I heard that one of the fourth years is patrolling the hallways looking for ‘ickle firsties’, apparently he likes the squealing noise we make.”

“Why hasn’t he caught you then?”

“I might not be much to look at but I’m fast,” the boy grinned, reaching out a hand which Sirius shook in acceptance. “James Potter.”

“Sirius Black.”

“You a Quidditch fan?” James inquired.

“I support the Prides,” Sirius nodded, using the nickname for Pride of Portree.

“Ha!” James laughed. “You mean you fancy Catriona McCormack.”

“Who doesn’t?” Sirius asked as the compartment door opened again.

It was another first year whose black hair might have matched James’s if it were not so oily. He seemed immune to the looks of the other boys, and made straight for the girl that they had been accidentally ignoring. Sirius raised an eyebrow at James, who shrugged.

“Do you play at all?” Potter continued the conversation.

“A bit, you?”

“Yeah, Chaser.”

“I think I favor Keeper,” Sirius replied, but James had stopped listening to him. Apparently the strange boy had said something that caught his interest instead.

“Slytherin?” James interrupted, unknowingly causing Sirius stomach to do a flip. He had almost forgotten the sorting ceremony that was to follow the end of their train ride. “Who wants to be in Slytherin?” (J.K. Rowling, _Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows_ , pg 671)

“My whole family has been in Slytherin,” Sirius said, his tone was somewhere between defensive and apprehensive as he was still unsure which house he was actually hoping to be sorted in to. It seemed to him that his whole future was going to be riding on the decision of the sorting ceremony; and his stomach flipped as he realized he did not even know what that entailed yet. (J.K. Rowling, _Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows_ , pg 671)

“Blimey,” James answered, “and I thought you’d seemed alright.” (J.K. Rowling, _Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows_ , pg 671)

This made Sirius smile, though he was not entirely sure why. He could not deny that he wanted this boy’s approval for some reason. “Maybe I’ll break the tradition,” Sirius mused, but a question was begging to be asked as a result of the discussion at hand, so he gave in and asked it. “Where are you headed, if you get the choice?” (J.K. Rowling, _Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows_ , pg 671)

Drawing an imaginary sword James declared: “‘Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart!’” He let go of the nonexistent sword, lowering his hand. “Like my dad,” he added, making the other kid ‘hmm’. (J.K. Rowling, _Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows_ , pg 671)

It was a sound that Sirius was all too familiar with as it indicated simultaneous amusement and disgust. Walburga Black would make the same sort of noise whenever one or other of her sons said or did something that she believed was beneath the House of Black. People only made that kind of noise when they thought themselves superior to everyone else, and whatever had brought that noise out of them just proved it. The sound grated on Sirius and he could hear it echoing in his ears across a thousand different memories.

“Got a problem with that?” Potter demanded, not missing a beat. (J.K. Rowling, _Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows_ , pg 671)

“No,” the other boy responded, but he was sneering. With that noise and that sneer Sirius could not help but feel that the boy would have fit in well on the House of Black family tree. If they did end up in Slytherin together, and if Sirius ever went home with this kid in tow, he could only imagine that Walburga would rejoice as though she had just been given a third son. The thought was enough to make Sirius’s blood boil. “If you’d rather be brawny than brainy—” (J.K. Rowling, _Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows_ , pg 672)

“Where’re you hoping to go, seeing as you’re neither?” Sirius erupted, causing James to roar with laughter. He gave his new friend a grin that was resilient even when set against the glare given to him by the girl. (J.K. Rowling, _Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows_ , pg 672)

“Come on Severus,” she said getting up. “Let’s find another compartment.” (J.K. Rowling, _Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows_ , pg 672)

“Oooooo…” without planning to the boys were in sync while making a mimicry of the girl’s voice while James tried to trip Severus on his way out. “See ya, Snivellus!” James called out after them before the compartment door slammed shut. (J.K. Rowling, _Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows_ , pg 672)

“You know that nickname is probably going to stick with him the entire time he’s at Hogwarts,” Sirius told James.

“Excellent,” the boy beamed, running a hand through his hair, and Sirius could not help but notice that rather than taming it he seemed to be mussing it with intention. “So what position did you say you play again?”

 

  

 

“Archer, Deborah,” Professor McGonagall summoned from on the stage, holding the Sorting Hat in one hand and a list of names in the other.

It had been a relief to know that the sorting ceremony was not some trial of his abilities or character, but rather just putting a talking hat on top of his head, but Sirius still did not know what house he actually wanted the hat to put on him. Now he was next in line. A blessing because it meant that his stomach could only tie itself in knots for so much longer; and a curse because he did not know where his new friend was going to be sorted. If James had gone first, or if he could somehow know for sure where James was going to end up, he might have asked the sorting hat for the same house.

“Hufflepuff!” the hat bellowed, and McGonagall removed it from Deborah’s head as she skipped along to her new table where people were clapping and waiting for her with bright smiling faces.

“Black, Sirius,” Professor McGonagall announced as Sirius made his way to the stool.

He had barely sat down when that hat was dropped upon him, and Sirius could barely see the crowd beneath its oversized brim. “Normally Blacks are easier to place,” breathed a voice that seemed to be speaking from within Sirius’s head rather than on top of it. “Hmm,” this time it did not put Sirius on edge because it was a very different sound, a contemplative sound of indecisiveness that actually gave the boy anxiety.

Sirius wondered if he should make a request, if he should be asked to be put in Slytherin or ask to be put in any of the other houses or… the truth was he simply did not know. The hat seemed to sense his conundrum. “Say I made you choose a second option,” the sorting hat mused.

Ravenclaw was for those who believed that wit beyond measure was man’s greatest treasure, and while Sirius thought that he could be pretty clever he would probably not make for the best of students. If he ended up in Hufflepuff though, he imagined that his parents would disown him on the spot. But if he were in Gryffindor… Sirius wondered if he was brave enough as his heart raced at the thought of having to tell his mother that he was not a serpent but a lion.

“I think you are,” the hat encouraged, and before giving Sirius a chance to back out or change his mind it hollered: “GRYFFINDOR,” for the entire hall to hear. The red and gold decorated table gave a tumultuous applause as Sirius made his way over, his knees shaking under the weight of what he had just done.

Sirius sat down at the table where he would eat the majority of his meals for the next seven years whether his parents liked it or not, and watched as the other kids in the line were sorted. “Evans, Lily” turned out not only to be the girl with dark red hair from the train, but also to be in Gryffindor along with him. In an effort to show that there were no hard feelings Sirius slid down the bench to make room for her—figuring that first years ought to stick together—but she made a show of being haughty and found a different seat (J.K. Rowling, _Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows_ , pg 672). Eventually “Lupin, Remus” took the place that had been created for Lily, and Sirius thought that he recognized the boy as the one from the train station. “Pettigrew, Peter” looked them over with shifty dark beady little eyes that gave him a nervous, almost panicked, look before sitting with them. It was with immense relief that Sirius witnessed “Potter, James” also being sorted into Gryffindor.

During the welcome feast that night James had done a comically dramatic reenactment of the scene with Snape making most of the table laugh, Lily being the only exception. She scolded James, saying that Severus did not really sound like that and he was being unfair, but this just seemed to make everyone laugh harder so she eventually gave up. Sirius wondered what bothered her more, that James was making fun of Snivellus—the nickname was already catching on—or that everyone else thought it was funny too.

As the laughter started to die down, the ghosts made their entrance into the Great Hall. Though Sirius had grown up in a pureblood family even he had not actually seen a ghost though he had heard his parents talk about Peeves and the Bloody Baron often enough. Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington was the resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower.

“Oh, Nearly Headless Nick!” Sirius exclaimed when he remembered. ( _Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone_ , Film, 2001)

“Sir Nicholas, if you please,” the ghost answered. ( _Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone_ , Film, 2001)

Janet Delaney made the mistake of asking how anyone could be ‘nearly’ headless, so Nearly Headless Nick gave them a demonstration. Lily gasped, her eyes bulging nearly out of her sockets, but her reaction was mild compared to Peter Pettigrew who jumped right out of his seat knocking over three glasses of pumpkin juice. ( _Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone_ , Film, 2001)

Other than dodging the spilled pumpkin juice most of the older students were ignoring this interaction with the ghost. When Sir Nicholas launched into his spiel about the injustice of not being allowed to join the Headless Hunt, he lost much of the attention of the first years. Lily Evans appeared to be the only one paying him any mind after a minute or so, but to her credit she did seem genuinely interested and concerned.

Sirius made a show of laughing along with everyone else and being engaged with the conversation. He was so good at it that he almost came to believe himself and forget about how worried he was about having broken such a major family tradition. Once the feast had ended, however, and they were led by the fifth year prefect to the Gryffindor common room, Sirius felt it all come rushing back to him along with near crippling regret when he saw the Slytherins gathering on the other side to make their way down into the dungeons.

 _This is what I want_ , the boy told himself. _To be my own person and to make my own decisions. I do not want to be like my parents._ A deep breath and he managed to follow the other students to what would become their home away from home.

When they were in their dorm arranging all their stuff, James was saying how they pretty much did not have to worry about class for the next couple of weeks because it was all going to be about how to take care of your wand and avoid magical abuse. Peter was the only one that was really paying any attention to him. Sirius had laid down on the bed when he felt someone’s eyes on him.

“You alright Sirius?” it was the boy Remus, tall gaunt and still seemingly getting over an illness or about to be overcome by one; perhaps both.

Not seeing any reason to keep the truth from him, Sirius confessed: “just trying _not_ to imagine my mum’s heartache when she hears that I’m not in Slytherin.”

“Hey mate, you escaped the coils of those scumbags,” James made an effort to cheer and give a bad pun simultaneously, but found his efforts were not rewarded.

“Wotcher, ‘mate’,” Sirius snapped back, perhaps with more venom than he had intended. “That’s still my family you’re talking about.”

“Easy,” James said, raising his hands up in surrender.

“I think what Potter is trying to say is that you would not be here if you did not belong,” Remus reconciled. “Even if you are not in your family’s traditional House you’re still in Hogwarts. There are other ways to make them proud, I’m sure.”

“Maybe,” Sirius allowed, uncertain but comforted all the same.

“I didn’t mean any offense,” James offered, the closest he would come to an actual apology.

 

  

 

Two days later, as Sirius was eating breakfast with the others before class when the mail arrived, and a big red envelope was dropped onto his plate. In case he got any ideas about it maybe being a mistake, his hand was written there in bold black letters across the front of the envelope. “Sirius Phineas Black.”

“Wait,” James advised him. “Open it after class.”

“Can’t,” Sirius replied. “They only get worse if you wait.” Remus raised an eyebrow. “Not my first howler,” he answered the unspoken question. Sirius broke the ribbon, and Walburga Black’s menacing voice boomed throughout the Great Hall, demanding to know what she had done to deserve such a betrayal from her eldest son.

No one—especially not James—made cracks about Slytherin House in front of Sirius again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **REFERENCES**
> 
> Colombus, C. (Director). (2001). Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone [Motion Picture].  
> Rowling, J.K. (2007). "The Prince's Tale". In J.K. Rowling, "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows" (pp. 671-672). New York: Arthur A. Levine Books.


	3. Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry that this update took me so long friends! I had a couple of weeks of birthdays and weddings. I plan to continue at a pace of about once a week.... hopefully.

3

Friends

 

By the time Hogwarts had its celebratory Halloween feast, James Potter and Sirius Black were as thick as thieves. Together they enchanted the doorways for most of the classrooms so it felt like walking through spider webs every time someone walked through it. In the morning everyone’s cries of alarms and panicked dance to get the nonexistent webs off were real. Come midday though they were doing it just to watch Filch run with a duster in his hand, trying to keep up with demand, only to be flustered when he could not actually _see_ anything.

In celebration of Sirius’s twelfth birthday on the 3rd of November James wanted to use the jinx Langlock on Snape. Sirius argued that they could do that any day and he wanted to try an Engorgio charm on a cake because even if it failed it would be a delicious explosion, plus everyone would thank them for the treat rather than curse them for the loss of house points. James said that Snivellus shutting up for a day ought to have been a marvelous present for everyone, and Sirius replied that they should hold off and do it for Christmas then; and suddenly the two were fighting.

Such was the way that it seemed to go all year long between the two boys; they were too similar not to have fun together when they were of like mind, and too much alike to avoid getting on each other’s nerves when they had differing ideas. As an only child James was used to getting his way without compromising, and as an older brother Sirius was used to giving in only a _little_ bit to the whims of others before ultimately still getting his way.

Usually Peter Pettigrew would stick to the two boys like gnomes to a garden, but when they were having one of their fights he would make himself scarce. Probably by hiding underground like a gnome. Remus also sometimes disappeared, but generally this had less to do with whatever James and Sirius were up to and more to do with Mrs. Lupin’s mysterious ailment. Whenever Remus was there it generally fell to him to make peace when Sirius was too hot headed and James was too proud.

James was a great partner in crime, someone that would encourage and participate in any scheme that Sirius could come up with; and he would do the same in return. Remus, however, was a great friend. Even though he rarely wanted anything to do with the antics of his friends, his patience seemed nearly infinite and he always had time to listen to their complaints. That was why it bothered Sirius so much that Remus did not feel as though he could be equally open with them.

Every few weeks Remus would disappear immediately after dinner, sometimes even before and usually without so much as a good-bye. If Sirius or one of the others asked after him Professor McGonagall would say that he was called away on account of his mother’s health. Whenever Sirius asked Remus what his mother was sick with, he would vaguely describe a few symptoms and then change the subject with such deftness that usually Sirius would not remember until hours later that he had never gotten a clear answer. It was clear that Remus wanted to lay the subject to rest and leave it there; and maybe Sirius could have done so if Remus did not come back from these absences looking haggard, beaten up, and as gaunt as ever.

The school year was rapidly coming to a close. Older students were studying for their O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s so diligently that they often brought textbooks and bits of parchment to the Great Hall with them to study as they ate. Other students were preparing for the end of year exams, but few were so concerned that they brought anything to the dinner table. One evening the boys were seated together as usual, James was complaining loudly to anyone that would listen about how McGonagall clearly did not play favorites.

“I mean other teachers obviously do for their houses,” James gave a sneeze that sounded suspiciously like: “ _Slughorn_!” Some Gryffindor students laughed, but most had heard this routine already after finishing with their transfiguration class where Professor McGonagall told them what they should study and practice in order to pass her exam.

Sirius ignored him. Jabs at the potion’s master and Slytherin’s Head of House, Professor Slughorn, did not bother him; and Sirius would even join in when they were tormenting Snape. Currently something else had caught the attention of the first year. Rather, it was the _lack_ of some _one_. At some point during James’s speech Remus had taken the opportunity to slip out again. If anyone noticed, it was only the people that were sitting closest to him and they just used the extra space to lean closer in to hear Potter. It unnerved Sirius sometimes how invisible Remus could be when he wanted.

“I’ll be back,” Sirius promised, knowing that he would not be able to sneak off as easily. He was almost if not just as popular as Potter, but he did not flaunt or gloat in it. As if to prove this point, James frowned with concern but merely shrugged; not bothering or maybe not wanting to stop the flow of conversation from his admirers to ask questions.

Upon exiting the Great Hall, Sirius caught sight of his stealthy friend almost immediately. “Remus!” he called out, and the boy looked over his shoulder. When he saw who it was, Remus did not stop so much as visibly flinch. “Where you off to, mate?” Sirius asked, trying not to take offense.

“To see my mum,” Remus answered. “You know how she’s sick.”

“Remind me what she has?”

“Please don’t,” his voice was pleading and barely above a whisper. With a shock, Sirius realized that Remus was _afraid_.

“Don’t _what_?” Sirius questioned, his own voice gentle and coaxing; but his friend held his silence. “I am just worried about you,” he reassured. “You are so closed off you only ever just say your mum is sick—”

“She is!” Remus protested, as though this was the point under debate. “Please Sirius, don’t ask any more questions. You won’t like the answers.”

“I am just worried about you,” Sirius repeated. “If you only explained—”

“No,” the answer was firm. “If there was a way, if I could; but I can’t. So please, Sirius, as my friend, _don’t ask_.”

“Just one question,” Sirius bargained, and before Remus could protest: “are you alright?”

Remus heaved a sigh of obvious relief. “As much as I ever am.” He put a hand on Sirius’s shoulder. “Thank you for caring, for being my friend. I don’t think you’ll ever know how much it means to me.”

“Will you ever tell me what it is?” Sirius inquired.

“Probably not,” Remus admitted, letting go. “I’m sorry, I have to go.”

“Your mum,” Sirius said.

“My mum.”

 

  

 

The summer holiday was exceedingly brief for James and Peter, whose parents had arranged for family excursions and filled their days with love and joy; but it was excruciatingly long for both Sirius and Remus. Sirius knew that his mother was still upset that he was in Gryffindor instead of Slytherin because she mentioned it with nearly every letter that she wrote him; and he expected that she would let him have it as soon as he stepped into the house. Instead, he found that he was ignored. It was a treatment that he might have been able to accept had he not watched his mother dote on Regulus in order to rub it in. Remus found that after nearly a year of being granted freedom to do what he liked and to make friends, it was grating to have his most of his childhood rules and restrictions placed on him once again. At least his parents trusted him enough now to go down to the village on his own on occasion.

Sirius had written the others all summer long and rarely got an answer from any of them—Remus would give a decent sized letter for every three Sirius wrote, Peter would sometimes reply in small paragraphs, and James might as well have forgotten how to write—they did finally reply when he asked about doing their shopping together in Diagon Alley for everything they needed for school. Sirius’s father had to work as always, and his mother simply refused to come—claiming that she needed to stay home and care for Regulus since he had a summer cold—and only handed her son a purse full of coins so he could by his own things. Of course the others all had their parents in tow; even the allegedly sick Hope Lupin was there, looking perhaps a little peakish but otherwise in good spirits. She was certainly looking better than her son whom was looking so wane that Sirius was afraid might have blown away with a good breeze.

“How are you feeling, Mrs. Lupin?” Sirius asked once they had been introduced.

“Just fine, thank you,” she answered.

“I know Remus has been worried about your health,” he continued.

“Oh, yes,” Hope replied as if she only just remembered that she had been ill. “Well, a little exercise should be just what I need.”

“Where are your parents, Sirius?” Lyall Lupin inquired politely, scanning the nearby crowd in hopes of finding and identifying them. Only later would Sirius realize that this was a deft way to change the subject and that Remus must have learned from his father. “I was rather looking forward to meeting them.”

“They won’t be joining us, Mr. Lupin,” Sirius answered, turning slightly pink.

The boys took turns getting a fitting for their new robes since they had all grown a bit during the past year, before going to Florish and Blotts for their new school books, which was when Sirius realized that the coin his mother had given him would be inefficient for all of his expenses. Sirius felt that burning sensation in his ears and cheeks come back, the one that meant he was embarrassed. He tried not to call the attention to himself from the others as he returned the newer editions of the books and exchanged them for the battered used copies.

“You don’t want that one Sirius, people will have written in it,” James scolded when he saw what Sirius was holding.

“Or scribbled in the margins!” Peter added, always eager to try and please; but James barely offered him a smile for this comment. For all of Potter’s faults he was fiercely loyal, and Sirius was his friend.

“Exactly, maybe they’ll have written the answers,” Sirius retorted, though the burn had increased, “and if there is drawings in the margins then I’ll be entertained in class.” Remus took all this in without a word, which somehow made Sirius feel even worse. It was not as if his parents did not have money, they had plenty, but they were not here and Sirius did not have access to the vault at Gringotts,

“I could use some lunch,” Remus announced.

“Leaky Cauldron?” Mr. Pettigrew suggested.

“Sounds lovely,” Mrs. Potter concurred.

“Let’s just purchase these then,” Mr. Lupin agreed.

Another galleon did not appear in Sirius’s bag as the group made their way to the Leaky Cauldron. “Don’t worry,” Remus whispered, and Sirius could not even have said when his friend had appeared at his side; he had made sure that the others had gone off ahead of him so he could count his gold again. “Dad will take care of it.”

“Take care of what?” Sirius asked, but Remus shook his head.

Before anyone could say or do anything, Lyall Lupin had paid for everyone’s lunch. The Pettigrew’s thanked him hardly, and the Potters argued that they should at least pay half; but no attention was brought to Sirius’s low funds. When they were leaving the Inn Sirius made sure to express his gratitude to Mr. Lupin who assured him it was nothing, and thanked Sirius in turn for being a good friend to his son.

His money troubles all but forgotten now that he did not have much left to buy, Sirius joined the other boys in Quality Quidditch Supplies. All four were present and watched with jealous admiration as James got a new broomstick from his parents, a gift showing their approval of his intentions to join the Gryffindor Quidditch team that year. They had gone to Fortescue’s for ice cream after, and once had flown around on it himself for a while, James let his friends each take turns on the highly praised and recommended Nimbus 1000.

While Peter was flying the broom, the Lupins said their goodbyes and went home; and James took advantage of their moment of privacy. “Sirius, it’s only a couple of days left until the start of term, I was wondering if you wanted to stay with us until—”

“Yes,” Sirius’s heart leapt at the thought of not staying at home any longer. James beamed.

“You’ll have to speak to your mother of course dear,” Euphemia Potter reminded him.

“Honestly I think she’ll be glad to have me out of the house,” Sirius answered.

 

  

 

On Saturday the 23rd of September the Gryffindor Quidditch team had booked the field for try-outs. Students lined up along the field. The Captain had decided that all positions were up for grabs that year besides her own as a Chaser. She made two teams based upon each Gryffindor students’ preferred positions, and essentially acted as a referee to a scrimmage, making the try-out immensely more fun to watch. Even better, as Sirius played Keeper he and James were on the same team which allowed them both to play to without fear of sabotaging the other.

“Alright, the team is as follows,” the Captain announced. “I of course will remain as Chaser, and Potter will be the other. Gryffindor’s Seeker will be McGonagall, Keeper will be Ewart…”

“Sirius,” James whispered, looking scandalized.

“It’s alright,” Sirius shrugged, nonplussed. “I didn’t play my best game, and Ewart probably still could have swept me off the field if I had. It’s better for the team.”

“Want to help me nick some stuff from the kitchens tonight?” James asked.

“POTTER,” his Captain bellowed. “It isn’t too late for me to change my mind and make someone else my other Chaser if you’re going to let your attention lapse when I am talking.”

“Sorry Captain,” James muttered.

“Someone do Potter a favor and tell him when the next practice is going to be,” the Captain ordered. “Otherwise you are all dismissed, enjoy the rest of your weekend.”

“How do you nick stuff from the kitchens without getting caught?” Sirius questioned now that it was safe to do so.

“You’ll see,” James grinned wickedly.

“Every time I see that smile I think, ‘oh no’,” Remus informs his friends as he and Peter catch up to them from their position on the field. “Sorry, Sirius, and congratulations, James.”

“Thanks,” James answered.

“Why on earth would you think ‘oh no’?” Sirius feigned innocence.

“Maybe it has something to do with the fact that it usually accompanies a drop in Gryffindor’s House Points and a round of detentions,” Remus replied.

“So you’re coming with us, right?” James asked.

“Can’t, my mum.”

“You’re going home already?” Peter objected. “But term just started a couple weeks ago.”

“Next time,” Sirius said, helping to change the subject before Remus felt like he had to answer.

“Next time,” Remus echoed with a nod, separating from them as they entered the castle as he made his way to Professor McGonagall’s office

“But we aren’t allowed to wander the halls after dark,” Peter protested once they were inside the portrait hole.

“Bloody hell Pettigrew, why don’t you march up to Dumbledore’s office and tell him yourself if you’re going to shout for the whole castle to hear,” James scolded.

“It’s not like the rules have ever stopped us from doing anything before,” Sirius added.

“Yes, but it’s like Remus said,” Peter complained. “Gryffindor usually ends up with less House Points and there’s a round of detentions for everyone involved with your escapades.”

“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” James told him, almost causing Sirius to stop in his tracks. Once Potter had a scheme in mind, he and his friends were going to see it through. If one of them had a problem with it, he would typically nag them until they agreed; or in Sirius’s case they would have a row. Either James had never intended for Peter to come with them, or the end of the world was at hand. “In fact it will be better if you don’t. We’re going to need someone to open the portrait hole from the inside.”

“Why won’t we be able to open it from the outside?” Sirius asked.

“Come with me,” James ordered, leading them into their dormitory. He went to his trunk and pulled something out from the bottom of it. It appeared to be a cape, silvery in color and old-fashioned in style; even by wizarding standards.

“Is that…?” but before Sirius could finish his question James had thrown the invisibility cloak on, and all but his head had disappeared. “Wicked,” Sirius gave a crooked grin as he dreamed up all of the trouble they would be able to get in. “How’d you get it?”

“Family heirloom,” James answered. “Dad gave it to me for Christmas last year.”

“You had it half of last year and you said _nothing_?” Sirius demanded.

“Wanted a chance to have it to myself first,” he explained. “Anyway, I’m showing it to you now, and I think tonight’s a great night to nick some food from the kitchens.” Peter looked as though he had suddenly changed his mind and wanted to come with them. “Stay here. After a half hour or so, go open the door. If we don’t come in with a tray full of food, keep opening it every five minutes or so until we do show up.”

“What are you making him do that for?” Sirius questioned once they were under the invisibility cloak and wandering around the halls. “It’s not like the Lady would rat on us if we took the cloak off in front of her and gave the password.”

“Yeah, but this way he won’t try and weasel his way out of listening to me again,” James answered. “Come on, kitchens are this way.”

“Someone should make a map of this place,” Sirius complained.

When they were a floor below the Great Hall, James turned and faced a gargantuan portrait of fruit. Before Sirius could make a snarky remark, Potter reached out a hand—which would have been the only visible part of him should anyone walk by—and tickled the pear. To Sirius’s growing amazement, the pear shook before turning into a doorknob that James turned. He pulled the invisibility cloak off of them as they stepped inside the kitchen.

“Mr. James Potter!” half a dozen voices said at once. Sirius, used to having Kreature at Grimmauld Place, did not need to be told that these were house elves.

“You brought a friend tonight!” one of them exclaimed.

“Would you like the usual, Mr. Potter?”

“The usual?” Sirius questioned.

“Yeah, well, I have found myself hungry in the middle of the night a lot since last year,” James responded. “Actually, I was wondering if we might be able to get a bit more food tonight? See, they just put me on the Gryffindor Quidditch team and I sort of wanted to celebrate.”

“Oh yes! We are always happy to help Mr. Potter and his friends,” one of the house elves said as others brought trays loaded with so much food that Sirius was sure that they could invite Hufflepuff over and _still_ have leftovers for days.

“That was _inspired_ ,” Sirius laughed, his arms loaded with trays of food while James attempted to cover both of them and the food with the invisibility cloak.

“It’s only the beginning too,” James informed him. “Dad says that if you know where to look, there are also secret tunnels and passageways that we can find and a whole room that’s enchanted to be whatever you need.”

“We have so much to do,” Sirius said.

“First, party,” James answered, grabbing a biscuit that was about to fall off of the tray.


End file.
